Page 100 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"But ye are still vera vulnerable to an attack, if ye ken mah meaning," the Douglas laird slurred.

William looked up. He thought he knew only too well.

"We are ready wi' oor defenses," assured William, looking him in the eye. He was earnest. But Douglas was not.

"Och, of course, I ken ye are. An' yer fighters are brave an' fast," mollified the laird, extending a drunken arm over him.

William permitted the Douglas laird to bear hug him with an inebriated gesture, but he did not exactly reciprocate the act.

"But?" said William, getting in early.

Before him, the Douglas laird looked unsure. "Eh?" gaped Douglas, his thick gray hair stewing in his drink. Irritably, he pushed it back, immediately knocking the chalice of whiskey over. "Och! Crivvens!"

"Dinnae fash," said William, almost equally drunkenly, as a comely young lass hastened with a cloth. The laird of Douglas duly admired her as she leaned over, her long blonde-colored hair swaying all over them.

"But what?" said the laird of Douglas, as the girl cleaned up the spilled whiskey and departed.

William, completely forgetting what it was he had said, stared at him. Now it was his turn to gawp and be unsure. For a moment, the pair of them looked in surprise. Then, the Douglas laird roared.

"Och," he said, with a sudden burp. Then he looked at the serving lass, passing by again with jugs of ale. Affecting a modest pose, Douglas gasped. "Pardon me, miss!"

Laird Douglas placed a hand in front of his mouth and pretended to be chaste. Then he guffawed loudly. "Dinnae fash, dinnae fash. An' ye also, William, ye've nothing to fash about if ye stay wi' us. I shall look after yer wee clan—och! Did I e'er tell ye about the time that we defeated the Lowlander clans single-handed."

William smiled politely, but inside he screamed. Douglas was insufferable. And the more he drank, the worse he bragged. The only thing to do was to get equally drunk. Which he did do.

But it did not solve the fundamental problem that the Douglas clan was by far and away the more powerful.

And didn't the laird of Douglas know it.

"I believe ye might have done," said William diplomatically.

Two or three hundred times.

Laughing, Douglas slapped William hard on the shoulder. Stung, William turned around. He was almost going to retaliate when he remembered that this was meant to be friendly.

Baring a grin, William nodded.

For his part, Douglas simply paid no heed to anything except what was in his head.

"Well, I didnae tell ye that was how we found oor Sorcha." The laird winked as the lady-in-waiting, a delicate woman, head-to-toe in gray, turned a deep shade of pink.

William looked away, embarrassed for her.

"I...um, nay, really," said William, a combination of drunk boredom and uncertainty grabbing him. With a quick glance, his eyes took in the great chamber.

All the clans seemed to have turned out to witness the coming of their union. Three days of feasting had been declared, and the revelries had left everyone worse for wear. Not least of all him.

But there was still something missing.

Two days into the feasting, he had only met his future intended once. During the day, there had been hunting with the Douglas laird. And of course, endless drinking.

William had thought himself well-versed in drinking until meeting the Douglas laird. He hated to admit it, but he had drunk him under the table and still had room for more. All the same, William tried his hardest to compete and also to drag the topic back to where he wanted it to be.

"So, um, Laird Douglas," began William, trying hopelessly to discuss clan matters. "When we unite, we should look at how things should be."

But that was as far as he got. At the first mention of unite, Douglas merely guffawed and put his arm around William's shoulder.

"Och, aye, unite, well, dinnae fash wee laddie, ye'll be taken care o'."